The Mousetrap

LOMBARD. What a dog of the bulldog breed you are, Blore. By the way, between friends and without prejudice, you did go in for that little spot of perjury, didn’t you?

(VERA sits Left end Right sofa.)

BLORE. (Sits Right Centre. Hesitating) Well, I don’t suppose it makes any odds now. Landor was innocent, all right. The gang squared me and between us we put him away for a stretch. Mind you, I wouldn’t admit it now if it wasn’t that—

LOMBARD. You think we’re all in the same boat?

BLORE. Well, I couldn’t admit it in front of Mr. Justice Wargrave, could I?

LOMBARD. No, hardly.

BLORE. (Rises) I say, that fellow Seton, do you think he was innocent?

LOMBARD. I’m quite sure of it. Wargrave had a reason for wanting him out of the way. Well, Blore, I’m delighted you’ve come off your virtuous perch. I hope you made a tidy bit out of it?

BLORE. (Injured) Nothing like what I ought to have done. They’re a mean lot, that Benny gang. I got my promotion, though.

LOMBARD. And Landor got penal servitude and died in gaol.

BLORE. I couldn’t tell he was going to die, could I?

LOMBARD. No, that was your bad luck.

BLORE. His, you mean.

LOMBARD. Yours, too. Because as a result of that fact you may get your life cut short unpleasantly soon.

BLORE. What? Me? By Armstrong? I’ll watch it.

LOMBARD. You’ll have to. Remember there are only three Indians there.

BLORE. Well, what about you?

LOMBARD. I shall be quite all right, thank you. I’ve been in tight places before and I’ve got out of them. And I mean to get out of this one. (Pause) Besides, I’ve got a revolver.

BLORE. (Right end Right sofa) Yes—that revolver. Now listen. You said you found it lying down there. What’s to prove you haven’t had it all the time?

LOMBARD. Same old gramophone record! No room in your head for more than one idea at a time, is there?

BLORE. No, but it’s a good idea.

LOMBARD. And you’re sticking to it.

BLORE. And I would have thought up a better story than that, if I were you.

LOMBARD. I only wanted something simple that a policeman could understand.

BLORE. What’s wrong with the police?

LOMBARD. Nothing—now that you’ve left the Force.

BLORE. (Above Right sofa) Now look here, Captain Lombard, if you’re an honest man, as you pretend—

LOMBARD. Oh, come, Blore, we’re neither of us honest.

BLORE. If you’re telling the truth for once, you ought to do the square thing and chuck that revolver down there.

LOMBARD. Don’t be an ass.

BLORE. I’ve said I’ll go through the house looking for Armstrong, haven’t I? If I’m willing to do that, will you lend me that revolver?

LOMBARD. (Rises to down Centre) No, I won’t. That revolver’s mine. It’s my revolver and I’m sticking to it.

BLORE. (Angrily) Then do you know what I’m beginning to think?

LOMBARD. You’re not beginning to think it, you square-headed flattie. You thought it last night, and now you’ve gone back to your original idea. I’m the one and only U.N. Unknown Owen. Is that it?

BLORE. I won’t contradict you.

LOMBARD. Well, think what you damned well please. But I warn you—

VERA. (Incisively) I think you are both behaving like a pair of children.

(They BOTH look at her rather sheepishly.)

LOMBARD. Sorry, Teacher.

VERA. (ToBLORE; scornfully) Of course, Captain Lombard isn’t the unknown. The Unknown Owen is Armstrong—and I’ll tell you one very good proof of it.

BLORE. Oh, what?

VERA. Think of the rhyme. “Four little Indian boys—going out to sea. A red herring swallowed one, and then there were three.” Don’t you see the subtlety of it? A red herring? That’s Armstrong’s pretended suicide, but it’s only a red herring—so really he isn’t dead!

BLORE. That’s very ingenious.

VERA. To my mind, it’s absolute proof. You see, it’s all mad because he’s mad. He takes a queer, childish, crazy pleasure in sticking to the rhyme and making everything happen in that way. Dressing up the Judge, killing Rogers when he was chopping sticks; using a hypodermic on Miss Brent, when he might just as well have drugged her. He’s got to make it all fit in.

BLORE. And that might give us a pointer. Where do we go from here? (Goes up to mantelpiece and reads)

“Three little Indian boys walking in the Zoo.

A big bear hugged one and then there were two.”

(He laughs) He’ll have a job with that one. There’s no Zoo on this island! (His laughter is cut short as he sees the big bear rug on which he is standing. He edges off the rug and turns to LOMBARD.)